


The Dark Lord's Heir

by HarmonyB



Series: Serpentine Series [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:47:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29019939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarmonyB/pseuds/HarmonyB
Summary: [Book three in the Serpentine series] Voldemort has taken control of the Ministry. Hermione and her friends must navigate a new world controlled by the Dark Lord. Torn between her loyalty to Harry Potter and her love for Lord Voldemort, Hermione will have to make choices that decide the fate of the Wizarding World.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle, Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Hermione Granger/Voldemort
Series: Serpentine Series [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/148533
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	The Dark Lord's Heir

Death Eaters watched in crippling fear as their Dark Lord exploded with rage. The Killing curse flew freely from Voldemort's wand, hitting one person after the other. Some fled while others clung to each other, too scared to move.

"You let her go, fools!" Voldemort screamed. "I only just got her back and you let Potter slip in amongst us and steal her from me!"

Once he exhausted himself, thirty or so new bodies scattered the floor, adding to the already large number of dead throughout the Atrium. He stood there staring at those who remained, gasping for air, eyes wild. He was like a furious dragon that had his horde of precious treasure stolen.

Mag, Barty, and their team of Death Eaters returned looking nervous. They had failed to find Potter and weren't eager to inform their Dark Lord. However, when they witnessed the state he was in, with dead followers at his feet and their Lady gone, they figured he must have already received the bad news. Mag was the only one brave enough to step forward. Barty stayed back with the others, watching their Lord like he could explode again any second.

"My Lord," Mag said gently, wringing his hands.

Voldemort's eyes flashed to him, making the stout man flinch.

"I had her," he said.

"I know, my Lord."

"She was in my grasp, and then she was gone." His voice came out in a pitiful moan, a sound Mag had never heard coming from his Master.

"We'll get Potter, my Lord. I swear to you."

Voldemort rounded on him and growled behind gritted teeth. "Yes, Magnus. You better get him, or it will be on _your_ head. If not yours, then someone else's. Potter _will not_ get away with this."

"He's as good as dead," Mag said with a deep bow. "Meanwhile, my Lord, we might want to consider your next steps."

"What are you saying?" Voldemort snapped as though he had been served a grave insult. "Nothing is more important than getting her back."

"Of course, my Lord—"

Voldemort loomed over him and Mag cowered beneath his shadow. "You think you can do a better job than me? Think you can tell me what to do?"

"Of course not, my Lord," Mag said with his hands up in a soothing gesture. "But now that you will be Minister, there are a great many things to consider. With the campsite destroyed, we have hundreds of followers that need homes, and Ministry employees that will need to return to work."

Voldemort shifted impatiently from one foot to the other. He pursed his lips, not wanting to listen but knew the Death Eater was right. However, there was only one thing he wanted at that moment, and a hot coal burned in his gut at the thought of Potter with his hands on her. The boy was going to discover what real pain is.

"We will search tirelessly for our Lady, of course, but the Wizarding World needs its Minister to lead them."

Voldemort heaved an impatient sigh but nodded once. His posture straightened as he switched from a heart-broken man back into a fearsome ruler. "Bring any remaining followers here. We will find room for them to reside until we can attain more appropriate housing. Give them work and put children back on lessons. Take a team to the Daily Prophet headquarters. We will need them to get word out that Ministry officials must return to work. If anyone at the Daily Prophet headquarters resists, kill them."

"Not everyone may come back, my Lord. Especially if they were loyal to Scrimgeour."

"All the better. Any available positions will be given to our followers."

Mag bowed. "Yes, my Lord."

"But more importantly, send as many people as you can to every corner of Britain. Every town, every village. Search from the skies. Make no place safe for Potter to hide."

Mag straightened with confidence and a slippery grin spread across his thin lips. "Finding Potter may be an easier task than you think, my Lord."

Mag turned to the Death Eaters he had entered the Atrium with and beckoned. They parted and two burly Death Eaters came forward, carrying a short fiery-haired woman between them. They dropped her at Voldemort's feet, and she landed on hands and knees with a small cry. She did not meet his gaze and so Voldemort dropped to a knee and stuck his wand beneath her chin, forcing her to look. The woman's brown eyes burned with an anger Voldemort wasn't accustomed to seeing in those that opposed him. He had expected to see fear, but not one bit of it reflected in her features.

"Ah," Voldemort said, instantly recognizing the woman. "You're the witch who murdered Bellatrix Lestrange, one of my strongest and most loyal followers."

Molly Weasley glared up at him with as much hatred as she could muster, her red curls trembling. "That bitch got what she deserved, _Dark Lord_. You'll meet the same end one day."

Voldemort gritted his teeth at her insolence. "You'd best get used to calling me 'Minister.'"

Molly spat on the ground, nearly missing his shoe.

Voldemort grimaced at her. "You're going to tell me where Potter is, Molly."

"Never."

Several of his Death Eaters grumbled in agitation at that but he restrained his emotions.

"You know...," he began, a wicked smirk playing at the corners of his lips, "...I'm quite familiar with you Weasley's. Especially your pretty daughter, Ginny."

Hearing her youngest child's name coming from the terrifying man made her face fall into fear and doubt. The sight of it spurred him on.

"If you cooperate, then maybe I won't kill her when I find the rest of your brood."

Her breath caught in her throat and tears sprung to her eyes. She fought hard to keep them from falling. Voldemort leaned in closer. Delicately, like trying to coax a spark into a flame, he whispered, "Tell me where they are."

The witch's jaw clenched. She stared at the floor, unwilling to meet his sharp gaze. Her next words came out cold and unyielding.

"I'd rather die."

Mag and Barty watched Voldemort with apprehension. However, his expression did not change. He placed a slender hand on her shoulder and his fingers dug into her orange knitted cardigan. He said nothing for a moment, only breathed heavily, making her ginger bangs quiver. During the insufferable silence, her whole body began to shiver.

"If my Death Eaters do not get into that stubborn head of yours first, then it just may come to that, Molly."

He patted her firmly once on the shoulder and Mrs. Weasley flinched. He rose to his feet and addressed the men before him.

"Take her to the Aurors offices. Set her up in an interrogation room."

Mag nodded to the two burly men who had drug her over. They took her by each arm and forced her to her feet.

"I'll get her tongue wagging, my Lord," Mag said as they carried her away.

"Yes, you will," Voldemort muttered and watched as they left the Atrium. He took a deep breath and desperately tried to focus his thoughts on _her_. On where she was, how she was feeling. But to his utter annoyance, he felt nothing.

"Where are you, my everything?" he whispered with eyes closed. "Where are you?"

* * *

_Where are you?_

Harmony jerked awake with the whisper of his words still lingering in her mind. She took several deep breaths, clinging to the sound of his voice. But within seconds, it was gone, and she was alone. Slowly, she sat up in bed, her hands grasping at the threadbare sheets she laid on. Dust billowed up in plums at her sudden movement. Looking around, she realized she must be in one of Grimauld Place's many spare bedrooms. Portraits of stuffy, dark-haired witches and wizards covered the walls. She watched them move in their frames and the Black family ancestors all stared back at her judgmentally.

"What are you looking at?" she mumbled at them, and they all turned their noses up at her, hissing " _Mudblood_ " under their breaths.

Harmony swung her legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand. The whole world spun, and she clutched at her head, willing it to stop. Memories of when last she was awake infiltrated her mind: she was running, trying to escape. Her hand had reached the front door of Grimauld Place, when suddenly she was restrained by magical bonds and slammed into the floor—that would explain the dull ache in her shoulder—and no matter how hard she fought, it was useless. Rolling onto her back, she had watched as Harry and Ron approached her, wands drawn. Seeing their distrust in her stabbed like a nail to the heart. But when she had spoken to Harry, desperately trying to convince him to let her go, the light from his wand filled her vision and everything went black.

He could have easily killed her. He had every reason to, after all she had done. Yet, there she was, safe in bed. They must have dumped her there after knocking her out. She glared at the door, already knowing it must be locked. But all the same, she stepped over and tried the knob. To her amazement, it turned! But then she stopped.

Whipping out her wand and waving it over the door, she whispered, " _Specialis Revelio_."

As she suspected, a blueish-white mist appeared around the door, signifying the presence of magic—she guessed it was some sort of security ward that would alert the others of her trying to leave the room. Whispering a counter-curse, the mist dissipated like steam in a cool breeze. Confident now, she slowly turned the knob and opened the door a few centimeters, but only saw an empty hallway draped in shadow. Opening it further, she poked her head out. At the end of the hallway, sunlight beamed in from behind moth-eaten drapes at the window and she guessed it was late morning to early afternoon.

She opened the door far enough to slip through. Mercifully, the old door made no noise on its hinges. Wand out, she continued down the hall, eyeing each room she passed and keeping her ears open for any sound. She tried to keep her breath even, though she could do nothing to help her thundering heart. The trip down the stairs was an apprehensive one; she expected the wooden steps to creak but was once again granted mercy. It was like fate wanted her to escape and return to Voldemort's arms. The very thought of him made her chest ache with longing.

At the final step, the entrance to Grimauld Place came into view. Harmony's heart leapt with hope. She was almost out.

However, the moment her foot touched the main floor, Ron came walking out of the kitchen, holding a muffin in each hand. They saw each other at the same time, and both the witch and wizard froze.

Harmony held up a hand. "Don't—"

"Bloody hell," Ron said, dropping the muffins to grab his wand from his pocket. "Harry, she's out!"

Harmony blocked his disarming spell as she dove forward into the living room. She ducked behind the grand piano as voices shouted back in response.

"I told you we should have taken her wand!" George called from the hallway, coming closer.

From her hiding spot, Harmony heard their footsteps pounding into the living room.

"Come on, Hermione," Harry's voice called out. "No one has to get hurt. I let you keep your wand to assure you that we are trustworthy. At least show us the same curtesy by not using it against us."

"You're keeping me prisoner," Harmony spat, holding her wand close to her chest. "How could I possibly trust you?"

"You may not believe this, but it's for your own good," said Harry, ignoring Harmony's snort of derision. "Please—"

"Well, for _your_ own good you'll let me go."

"Is that a threat?" George asked, then again to the others, "Is she threatening us?"

"Not from me, George," Harmony sighed. "From Voldemort and his followers. They'll kill all of you for so much as touching me."

"I don't doubt it," said Harry. His voice sounded closer, more off to her right. "He'll kill us regardless."

Out of the corner of her eye, Harmony saw movement. Harry was slowly stepping around the piano to see her crouching on the floor. Pointing their wands at each other, Harmony jumped out of her spot. She stepped away but her back hit the wall. The others had their wands out until Harry waved a hand to lower them. They slowly complied, watching her close.

"It doesn't have to be like this," Harry said.

"What do you mean?"

"You don't have to be our prisoner. You could help us."

"Help you murder my fiancé and the father of my child? Fat chance."

"You've been gone too long, surrounded by horrible people. You've just got to see things from our way again—"

"I've told you. I'm not brainwashed."

"Maybe not. But there has got to be a part of the old Hermione still in here, the one that knows how evil Voldemort is."

"Come on, Hermione," Ginny begged. She took a step closer with her hands raised. "The Wizarding World will be destroyed under Voldemort's power. He will change everything for the worse. _You know this_."

Ginny took another reassuring step toward her, her large brown eyes pleading. Harmony shifted from one foot to the other, her desire to flee overwhelming. With another step, Ginny was within reach. Without thinking, Harmony snatched her by the elbow and spun her around. She held her close like a shield, the tip of her wand pressed against the side of her neck. Both Harry and George's wands shot up again. Ron was too shocked to move.

"Hermione, don't!" Harry shouted.

"If you harm one hair on her head, it'll be the last thing you do," George said in a threatening voice she had never heard coming from the usually cheery wizard.

"Take it easy," Ron said to George, beckoning him to lower his wand.

"Don't tell me to 'take it easy,' little brother. I've already lost one of you. I'll die before letting it happen again."

Ron shut his mouth at that.

"It's alright," Ginny said to the boys, and again softly to Harmony, "It's alright."

Harmony took a step closer to the hallway, taking Ginny with her. George matched her step back, keeping himself between her and the front door.

"I have to do this," Harmony said in Ginny's ear.

"I know you think you do. But I also know that you're scared."

"Stop." Harmony took another step, her eyes jumping from Harry behind her to George in front of her.

"You were scared of Voldemort. Then he showed you kindness. Now you're scared to lose him. You're scared about the baby, about dealing with it by yourself. You're scared of being alone."

"Stop," Harmony said again with more bite, although she could not stop the sting of tears.

"You're not alone, Hermione. We're here for you."

Harmony stopped. Her wand hand was trembling. She buried her face in Ginny's crimson hair, enveloped by the familiar smell of it.

"This isn't you," Ginny said with a soothing gentleness.

"I'm not who I was," Harmony cried. "You have to let me go."

George was now guarding the door, the only thing between her and freedom. The look of determination on his face told her that only Death could move him.

"You don't understand," she said, damning the tears spilling down her cheeks. She pressed her wand harder into Ginny's neck. "I...I swear I'll do it..."

"You won't," said Ginny in a breathy voice. After a hard swallow she went on, "You would never hurt me. I know you wouldn't. We're sisters."

With that, it was like a thick fog lifted from her mind, and Harmony fully realized what she was doing. She was using Ginny—one of her best friends and confidants—as a shield, threatening to hurt her in order to get what she wanted. Just like a Death Eater. These people, her friends, did not deserve her wrath. They have never harmed her, never harassed her with an unkind word—so unlike the world she had become used to. She needed out of there, but not like this. Not with threats and tears.

Harry was right: she had been gone too long.

Slowly, Harmony loosened her grip from Ginny and lowered her wand. Everyone relaxed, save George. Ginny took a deep inhale and let it all out in one breath, as though letting all the stress out with it. She turned to face Harmony and wrapped her arms around her in a hug. Harmony welcomed the warm gesture and let herself be held.

"I'm sorry," Harmony whispered. Ginny squeezed her a little harder in reply. The moment she stepped away from her, George's voice called out by the front door.

" _Incarcerous_!"

Ropes came flying down the hall at Harmony like angry snakes, wrapping around her in a suffocating grasp from shoulders to ankles. She nearly toppled over if not for Ginny's steadying hand.

"Oi!" Ron called out to his brother. "She's fine. Did you really have to do that?"

"She threatened our baby sister," George said, holding up his hands innocently. "My sincerest apologies for being a tad bit defensive."

"She's my sister, too, but I trust Hermione. Why can't you?"

George muttered under his breath. "Well, I'm not in love with her, so..."

"What was that?" Harmony asked.

"Breakfast!" Ginny announced, clapping her hands together and giving George a hard look. "I'm sure you're starving, Hermione. You've slept through most of the morning, but we have a bit of sausage and eggs left. Now, George, if you don't mind..."

" _Relashio_ ," George said with a flick of his wand and Harmony's bonds relinquished.

Ginny guided her away and the boys watched her closely as she passed.

The state of the kitchen had improved since their fight the day before. Although, a few broken chairs laid in a heap off to the side. Now the table was covered in platters of food, goblets of juice, and plates that had been picked clean by the others. Harmony found an empty spot to sit near the end of the table. Ginny brought her a full plate of food and placed it before her. Harmony's tummy twinged with guilt at the young woman's generosity. When she looked up at Ginny in thanks, her eyes fell to the angry red spot on her neck where she had jabbed her wand, and her guilt doubled.

"Sorry the food's not as good as mum's," Ginny said, taking a seat beside her.

"That's for sure," Ron said, earning him a "Shut up!" from his sister.

"It's delicious," Harmony said between bites of sausage. It was lukewarm but thankfully took the edge off her hunger.

The boys took their seats, with Ron on her left and Harry and George on the opposite side of the table.

"I must have been out a while, I'm absolutely famished," Harmony said with a mouth full of eggs. 

"Yeah, well, let's hope we don't have to use the stunning spell on you again," Harry said, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. "No more running away from now on, yeah? More communication and less throwing curses at our heads."

Harmony stared at her food. Above all things, she desired to be by Voldemort's side. To have him within reach. Being apart made her feel...unraveled. It was like they were connected by an invisible thread that grew painfully taut the farther they were apart. The thread was endlessly pulling, endlessly luring them back together again. Their reunion was inevitable. Harmony could feel it. They will be one again. She just had to be patient and play her cards right. No more threats and duels. She must regain their trust, then the opportunity to break free and return to Voldemort would come.

Harmony nodded once. "Agreed. More talk, less fighting."

"Good," Harry said, slapping his hands on the table.

"There's been enough fighting, that's for sure," Ginny said as she poured herself a goblet of orange juice.

"By the sound of things, plenty more fighting's still to come," Ron said before biting into a poppyseed muffin.

"What do you mean?" Harmony asked.

"Don't you know?" Harry said, brows furrowed in confusion. "Voldemort's making changes."

George snorted in derision. "Bloody wanker hasn't been Minister for a full day yet and he's already whipping the Wizarding World into a frenzy."

Harry reached over and picked up a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ on the table Harmony had overlooked. He held it up so the front page was presented to her in all its glory. The main title read in large bold font:

_**Lord Voldemort Minister for Magic** _

Below the title was a giant black and white photo of Voldemort standing stoic, tall, and proud before the fountain in the Ministry's Atrium. Harmony snatched the paper away from him to get a closer look.

"I still can't believe it," Ron said.

"Dumbledore must be rolling in his grave," George said.

"If Dumbledore was still alive, we wouldn't be in this situation in the first place," Harry added, and the others nodded their heads in agreement.

"' _Today marks the start of a new era, where witches and wizards of this glorious community need no longer hide in fear_ ,'" Harmony read aloud. Despite having already read it, the others listened close. "' _At 5:11 this morning, the most influential wizard of our age, Lord Voldemort, was sworn in as our Minister for Magic. Following the inadequate leadership of Rufus Scrimgeour, Lord Voldemort eagerly accepted the position and has already legislated forty-nine new laws on his first day—a feat never before achieved by previous Ministers. Turn to page A9 for a list of amendments we should expect to see in the coming future_.'"

Harmony's hands shook as she turned the pages. The list of changes was long. Her eyes darted across the page, eagerly taking in the new information. Some were trivial:

"' _This day will henceforth be The Day of Our Dark Lord and Lady. Annual celebrations are mandatory_.'"

"He's starting a holiday devoted to himself! Isn't that ridiculous!?" Ron said, throwing his hands in air.

"Actually, I was thinking of writing a song we could all sing on that day," George said, straightening in his chair and puffing out his chest. "Something like 'Vol-de-mort, Vol-de-mort! Greasy, sleazy Vol-de-mort! He farts nonstop and killed his way up to the top! Vol-de-mort, Vol-de-mort! Creepy, greedy Vol-de-mort! He has no class and one day he will kiss my—"

"George!" Ginny said.

Ron and Harry burst out laughing.

George deflated a little, giving his sister a sour look. "But I was just getting to the good part." He turned to Harmony. "Anyway, I think Voldemort would approve. Maybe he can make it his holiday theme song."

Harmony simply shook her head at him and went back to the _Daily Prophet_.

"Here's another: ' _The following greeting must be exchanged at all meetings, both private and public: All Praise the Dark Lord and Lady_.'"

"Ridiculous," Ron said again.

"How could he possibly enforce that?" Ginny asked.

Harmony skimmed the list and her stomach dropped when she found many of the changes were quite alarming.

"' _All Azkaban prisoners will be pardoned_ ,'"

"Isn't that fantastic," George remarked with his voice dripping in sarcasm. "Like there weren't enough insane murderers we had to deal with.

Harmony went on. "' _The so called 'Unforgivable Curses' will be legalized with exception to the Killing curse against magic users_.'"

"So in other words," Harry clarified, staring at her, "Muggle murder is legal."

"I know what it means," Harmony said between her teeth, refusing to look up from the newspaper.

"Go on." His tone was daring.

"' _All non-magic folk within our community, including Squibs, will be stripped of their position and must enter servitude to a witch or wizard of the Ministry's choosing_.'"

"Don't you see what he's trying to do?" Harry said. "Turning Muggles into slaves, legalizing their murder. Voldemort is trying to turn the Wizarding World against Muggles. Which only means one thing..."

Harmony knew before he spoke.

"...Voldemort isn't going to stop with the Ministry. He's going to go for the rest of the world next."

A silent, tense moment passed among them. Harmony weighed the truth to his words. Voldemort was ambitious, maybe too ambitious. But he was no fool.

"His numbers are large but the world is larger. Voldemort knows not to spread himself too thin," Harmony said in defense. "And surely he knows the Confederation would stop him from reaching beyond Britain's borders."

"Does he know that? You know him better than anyone."

Harmony bit her bottom lip, suddenly uncertain. If he had the numbers, he would certainly try. A _whole world_ of witches and wizards would be after Voldemort's head. The very thought made Harmony ache with worry. Regardless, a spark of anger flared up within her and she turned it on Harry.

"You would like that, wouldn't you? For Voldemort to capture the Confederation's attention. They would take him out so you wouldn't have to."

"Of course!" he shouted. "But who knows how long that would take? The longer Voldemort is in control, the more deaths he'll cause. The sooner we can force him out, the better."

Harmony threw down the paper and leaned back in her chair with arms crossed. "And I suppose that's where _I_ come in?"

"We're still figuring out the best way to use you," Harry admitted, glancing at everyone else at the table. Ron bowed his head, gazing somberly at the empty muffin wrapper on the table. Harmony watched him in curiosity out of the corner of her eye. Was he ashamed?

"I won't be your puppet," she said after turning her attention back to Harry.

"We'll see."

She scowled at him.

"Like I said," he added, tilting his chair back, hands behind head, "it doesn't have to be like that. You could help us take him down willingly."

"And like I said: Fat chance."

"We'll see," he repeated, and Harmony wanted to knock him out of his chair. He was trying to sow seeds of doubt in her mind about Voldemort, she knew. But he was going to have a fight on his hands. She and Voldemort were one and the same. She would never, as he said, "take him down willingly."

Harmony forced herself to focus back on the _Daily Prophet_ and tried to ignore the smug way he watched her.

"Says here Death Eaters are taking the place of law enforcement. Anyone who disrespects or disobeys them will be arrested."

"Wonderful," George muttered.

"Like that? Then you'll love this. It says that to help with the transition and enforce new laws immediately, a battalion of Death Eaters will be stationed in every wizarding community in Britain."

Ginny squirmed in her seat, face hard with worry. "Does that mean they're coming here?"

Harmony gave a half-shrug. "I'm sure they mean to place Death Eaters in all towns that magical folk reside."

Ginny turned her gaze to the window at the end of the kitchen.

"It's alright," Harry reassured her in a gentle voice.

"Maybe," Ron said slowly, "we should put extra protection spells up. Just in case."

"Will you two relax?" Harry laughed, jumping up from his seat and motioning to their surroundings. "This is the headquarters to the Order of the Phoenix! No one knows about this place, especially not Voldemort. We're invisible to Muggles and Death Eaters alike—"

Every single one of them jumped in fright, for at that moment, as if on cue, came a thunderous and urgent knock on the front door to Number Twelve Grimauld Place.


End file.
